Cocoa-Rye Raisin Bread

This is my bread.

It starts with this gurgling little beast, my homemade sourdough:

sourdough

I'm telling you, it's alive.

(I still need a name for the beast. I'm taking suggestions.)

cocoa raisin rye bread 2

I've been making this loaf for a few weeks now, tweaking it every so often here and there. It started as a multigrain loaf, with whole wheat and barley and rye all mixed together. I found the flavor a bit muddled, though, and the loaf was too dense. Since I was working with Anson Mills' rye flour, which is fragrant and flavorful and deserves to be celebrated, I simplified the recipe down to some white flour, some rye. Now the loaf is lighter and the rye really comes through.

Good rye flour really makes this bread sing, but there are plenty other things to love about it - enough that, were you to make it with whole wheat instead of rye, I think it would still be special. It's got cocoa and cinnamon, cloves and black pepper. Not a lot of any of these, mind you. None really clears its throat to announce its presence. The spices play a supporting role, like the honey in the dough. And they work really nicely with the golden raisins, which give pops of sweetness as you eat.

whole loaf

I love a good white sourdough loaf, and I love a good baguette. I adore this corn-filled bread that my friend Jess introduced to me when I visited her and Eli and their beautiful (beautiful!) daughter Mia last year. But this bread, this has become the bread. I start it on Saturday night, then promptly head off to bed. Sunday mornings, before doing all those little Sunday morning things, I fold it on itself a few times and cuddle it up on a tea towel to do its work while I'm out. By midday, we have brown, burnished loaf, ready for a week of toast.

The rhythm here is key: Saturday nights are when I feed my sourdough, dutifully dividing the beast in half and feeding it flour and water to make it grow. The unfed half is meant to be used -- in bread, duh -- and mine goes straight into the bowl with spices, raisins, and all the other goodies.

If you don't have sourdough, a) come to my house, I'll give you some. Or b) see the instructions below to make this bread without. It's less sour, of course, but really delicious in its own right.

A worthy weekend project, if you ask me.

whole loaf upside down

Cocoa-Rye Raisin Bread inspired by recipes by Pim and Jim Lahey

This bread lends itself easily to any necessary substitutions. If you don't have or don't want to buy rye flour, use whole wheat. If you don't have sourdough, add 1/2 a teaspoon of yeast, and replace the 8.5 oz starter with 1 cup flour and 1/2 a cup water, added when you add the other flour and water to the dough.

10 oz. (2  1/4 cups) bread flour or AP flour 4.5 oz. (1 cup) rye or whole wheat flour 2 tablespoons cocoa 1 teaspoon cinnamon pinch ground cloves pinch black pepper 2 teaspoons kosher salt 1/2 cup raisins 8.5 oz. 100% hydration starter, fed at least 8 hours earlier (see note) 9 oz. (1 1/8 cups) room temperature water 1 1/2 tablespoons honey

In a small bowl, mix together the flours, cocoa, cinnamon, cloves, pepper, salt, and raisins until fully combined. (If using yeast instead of sourdough, add it to this mixture.)

In a medium bowl, mix together the starter, water, and honey to make a uniform mixture. Add the dry ingredients and, using a fork or your hand, mix until you have a wet, shaggy dough, about 30 seconds. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap or a towel and let sit at room temperature until the surface is dotted with bubbles and the dough is more than doubled in size, 12 to 18 hours.

When the first rise is complete, generously dust a work surface with flour. Use a bowl scraper or rubber spatula to scrape the dough out of the bowl in one piece. Using lightly floured hands or a bowl scraper or spatula, lift the edges of the dough in toward the center, folding it into itself. After doing this a few times, tuck in the edges of the dough to make it round.

Place a tea towel on your work surface and dust it with semolina, wheat bran, cornmeal, or flour. Gently place the dough on the towel, seam side down. If the dough is tacky, dust the top lightly with wheat bran, cornmeal, or flour. Fold the ends of the tea towel loosely over the dough to cover it and place it in a warm, draft-free spot to rise for 2 hours. The dough is ready when it is almost doubled. If you gently poke it with your finger, it should hold the impression. If it springs back, let it rise for another 15 minutes.

Half an hour before the end of the second rise, preheat the oven to 475 degrees F, with a rack in the lower third of the oven.

You have two choices for baking this bread.

The first is the Jim Lahey method. Preheat a large, covered pot in the oven. When the oven hits 475, use potholders to remove the pot (and uncover it) and then uncover the tea towel and carefully invert the bread into the pot. Cover the pot, transfer to the oven, and bake for 30 minutes. Then uncover the pot and bake another 15 minutes. Use a heatproof spatula or pot holders to gently lift the bread out of the pot and place it on a rack to cool thoroughly.

The second method is definitely easier and allows you to make pretty slashes on the top of the bread. Preheat either a pizza stone or a heavy metal baking pan in the oven. If using a pizza stone, flour a peel and put the shaped bread dough on the peel. Make your slashes there, then transfer it from the peel onto the preheated stone. If using a baking pan, make the slashes on the tea towel, then remove the pan from the preheated oven and transfer the slashed dough onto the pan. Either way, bake the bread for 40-45 minutes, until the top is deeply browned but not burned. Transfer to a rack to cool completely.

Ima's Challah

Fresh from the archives, first published October 27, 2007: it's my Ima's challah, with new pictures and better instructions. Enjoy!

Growing up, there was one option for challah in town. Every Friday, my mom would swing by the local market and pick up two loaves from a nearby kosher bakery. The challah was truly uneventful: it was never dense enough, far too airy, not sweet or eggy, and usually even a bit crumbly. A lame excuse for challah, if you ask me.

My mother started making her own around the time I left the house, and she's never gone back. Before she had the kitchenaid, she did it all by hand, which is actually less time-consuming and labor intensive than one might think. Now that she has the stand mixer, though, challah is a snap.

challah dough 1

challah with cinnamon butter wash

Over the years, I've collected three fantastic recipes for challah. I used to make each with some regularity, but for several years now, I've only been making my mother's. Her basic recipe makes 2 small challot or 1 very large one, which is perfect for me, since I really don't need all that extra bread lying around (not that I would struggle to find things to do with it.... cough cough french toast cough cough). Second, it's just sweet enough without being cloying. Third, it's very easy to substitute some whole wheat flour and wheat gluten for white flour, which makes for a healthier, more rustic loaf of bread. And finally, she's my mom. Moms' recipes are best.

A warning about this challah. Back in college, I once brought challah to a meal for 17 people. I made three loaves, in case the first two went quickly. Sure enough, we sat down to dinner and within an instant, both loaves were gone. I offered to bring out the third: "no, no, don't. I couldn't possibly. I have to save room for dinner." Etc. After some more urging, I left well enough alone. After dinner, bellies stuffed, we all migrated over to the couch. I popped into the kitchen to help clean up....and found three girls holding the third challah between them, ripping off big pieces and devouring the loaf as though dinner had never happened. This stuff is addictive.

imas challah 2

Of course, I've made my tweaks to the recipe. I've settled on substituting whole wheat flour for 1/3 of the flour in the recipe, which gives the challah that rustic quality without sacrificing texture. Because I use a modest amount of whole wheat, I don't add any wheat gluten.

imas challah 3

I've also taken to making this recipe with melted butter. If you love butter's flavor in pastries and brioche, you'll love it here. And while I'm at it, I've started to use melted butter mixed with cinnamon and sugar to brush the loaves before baking. That makes the challah feel like a truly special treat.

Play around; see what you love. This has been my challah recipe for about 7 years, and I hope it can be yours, too.

Ima's ChallahMakes 2 smallish challot or 1 large

As I said, lots of options here. Whole wheat, or white (I've offered substitutions for those who want to use whole wheat flour at the end of the recipe); eggwash, or cinnamon-butter; 1 rise, or 2. Do what works for you.

1/2 cup warm water 1 teaspoon sugar 1 packet (2-1/2 teaspoons) yeast

3 cups flour 1 teaspoon salt 1/4 cup 2 tablespoons sugar 1/3 cup vegetable oil, olive oil, or melted butter 1/4 cup water 2 eggs pinch cardamom, optional For brushing: 1 egg 1 tablespoon honey

OR

3 tablespoons melted butter 1 teaspoon cinnamon 1 tablespoon sugar

Put 1/2 cup warm water in a small bowl. Add the teaspoon of sugar, sprinkle the yeast overtop, and leave it to proof for five minutes.

Mix flour, salt, and 1/4 cup 2 tablespoons sugar, and cardamom in a large bowl or in a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Stir to incorporate or blend on low speed.

While yeast is proofing, mix wet ingredients together.

Add yeast mixture to the flour, then add wet ingredients to the bowl, and mix using a wooden spoon or fork, or blend on low-medium speed, until the mixture looks uniform.

If using a stand mixer, switch to the dough hook and knead the dough for about ten minutes, until everything is well incorporated. Make sure flour at the very bottom of the bowl gets incorporated as well - this may require a bit of mixing and coaxing with your hands. If kneading the dough entirely by hand, turn the dough out onto a floured work surface and begin kneading, adding flour by the tablespoon as necessary, until dough is stretchy but not sticky, about 8-10 minutes.

When dough is fully kneaded, transfer it to a large bowl (if using the bowl in which you mixed the bread, you should rinse and dry it first). Cover the dough with a slightly moist towel or a loosely-fitted piece of plastic wrap. Set dough in a warm spot to rise for 45 minutes, until doubled in size. Gently deflate dough, and set aside for another 45-minute rise. Alternatively, let dough rise for 1 hour, until doubled, and then proof the dough for about 25 minutes after it's braided, before baking. I tend to do the latter, since I like to proof it.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

After the rise(s), the dough should be soft and more flexible than before. Halve dough, then use a dough hook to cut each half into 3 pieces. Roll each piece into a log almost 1-foot long. Braid the logs together to create your loaf. Trick: I start in the middle and do not pinch the top ends together before starting. After I've braided from halfway down to the bottom of the loaf, I turn the loaf over and upside down, and braid the other half. This way, both ends look identical. Tuck the ends beneath the loaf when braiding is finished.

Put each loaf on its own lined baking sheet, or side by side on a large baking sheet, leaving at least 2 inches between them. If using the egg for brushing, mix egg and honey to make an egg wash and lightly brush over each of the challot. Alternatively, mix the melted butter, sugar, and cinnamon together and brush that over the challot.

Bake at 375 degrees for 20-22 minutes, until challot are golden and baked through.

Serve warm or at room temperature.

**You can easily substitute up to 50% whole wheat flour, use the same amount as white, but add one tablespoon wheat gluten for every cup of flour. This ensures that the bread will have that same chewy but soft texture as with white flour. You can find wheat gluten at Whole Foods or Trader Joes -- and perhaps at your local supermarket as well. As for which whole wheat flour, my mom recommends King Arthur organic white whole wheat flour: in her words, "it gives the white bread consistency with whole wheat nutrition."

Luisa Weiss' Sour Cherry Quarkauflauf

The other day, I spent too many hours at the office. It was dark when I left work, and by the time I got home, all thoughts of roasted eggplant tartines went out the window. I wanted something I could dig into with a spoon, that would be warm and soft and comforting. Strangely, I wanted something with sour cherries.

It was dark in the kitchen. I couldn't find my individual gratins. I'd misplaced my whisk, too. Not one to let minor issues deter me from cooking, I tucked a strip of foil 2/3 of the way into my smallest baking dish. I flexed my muscles and whisked egg whites by hand. I squinted my way through the recipe. Lo and behold, what emerged from the oven 45 minutes later was as fluffy and light as I'd hoped it would be, never mind all of my adjustments. It's called  Quarkauflauf, and it lives up to its name.

Quarkauflauf is from a new cookbook by Luisa Weiss. As I made my first Quarkauflauf, I pictured Luisa standing by my side, laughing at my makeshift gratin and my sore forearms, cheering me on. We've never met, Luisa and I, but I read her blog. I cook her food. In the kitchen, she's a friend.

Luisa's been blogging forever at The Wednesday Chef, which by god you must read. She shares recipes from newspaper dining sections, but the good ones, the ones you read about and immediately dog-ear. She also writes wonderfully. And now that she's got her very own book, there's even more writing, even more of her captivating story, all in one place. When Luisa sent me her a copy of My Berlin Kitchen, I picked it up and promptly stopped everything else I was doing for 48 hours.  This is one good story.

What's the story? It's a love story. (Of course.) Am I going to tell you any more? No. (Of course not.) But people, there are recipes. So many recipes. And if, like me, you were under the misguided impression that German recipes just weren't your thing, dare I say this is the book for you? It is.

my berlin kitchen

You will make Quarkauflauf, for starters. You don't even know what it is yet, but the name alone...you want to make it. And then, after you've tucked a spoon into the tart, fluffy, fresh-from-the-oven auflauf (and again the next morning, when its cold and custardy), you will make cloud-like gooseberry cream cake (what, you want the true name? Hannchen Jansen.) You'll make braised endives. And poppyseed whirligig buns. See why you need this book? Now?

Reading Luisa's blog, I always knew we'd be friends in the kitchen. Now that I've read her book, I'm even more sure. We both like vinegary, pickled things; we both despise mayo. I beheld a friend's roasted goose, three days in the making, with the same awe Luisa experienced when she roasted one herself. And no matter how spicy I take my food, I get inexplicably paranoid when cooking hot stuff for others. (See: Luisa's meatballs in chipotle-tomato sauce.) Even if you don't read The Wednesday Chef (but you should...), you will befriend Luisa through My Berlin Kitchen. And you'll start to forgive yourself the little things, like the slumping, dribbling cake you woefully underbaked, or the cream you whipped by hand that lacks any semblance of a soft peak. This is cooking: trial, error, lesson. This is life, too. If risks and mistakes always taste as good as my sour cherry Quarkauflauf, count me in.

Sour Cherry QuarkauflaufAdapted ever so slightly fromMy Berlin Kitchen

I originally wanted to make this in individual gratins, but I couldn't find them. That said, I think this would be lovely in individual portions. Also, now that it's fall and sour cherries are a distant memory, I bet you could swap cranberries that have been tossed with a healthy portion of sugar. They'd go great with the cinnamon, too. That said, I haven't tested it that way, so if you do, let us know in the comments.

Also, a note about quark: it's fantastic, but not easy to find. One farmer at the Dupont market sells it, and I think Vermont Butter Co. does too. If you can't find it, super-fresh chevre would work well.

Last note: 8x11 baking dishes are hard to find in the US. The closest analogue would be a 10-inch round dish, whose area is slightly less. This means the Auflauf will be slightly taller, but since when is a towering souffle-custard a bad thing? That's what I've recommended here.

Butter for the baking dish 3 eggs, separated 1/2 cup sugar, plus a few tablespoons for the cranberries, if using 1 pound Quark zest of 1 lemon 1/2 teaspoon baking powder 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon 1/4 cup farina (semolina will work in a pinch, but it has more gluten than farina and will thus be less creamy; don't use instant Cream of Wheat) 2 cups pitted sour cherries (fresh or preserved/drained) or cranberries, pinch salt

Heat the oven to 375 degrees and butter an 8x11 baking dish or a 10-inch round pan. The pan should be at least 2 1/2 inches deep.

In a large bowl, beat the egg yolks and sugar until pale and frothy. Beat in the quark, zest, baking powder, cinnamon, and farina until smooth and creamy. Fold in the sour cherries.

Beat the egg whites with a pinch of salt in a clean bowl until the whites form medium-stiff peaks. Use a spatula to fold half the whites into the quark mixture to lighten it; then fold in the remaining whites just until no white streaks remain; do not overmix.

Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for 30 minutes, until the Auflauf has just set (Luisa says it should be starting to brown, but mine was still quite pale.) Don't fret the cracks, for there will be some. Just remove it from the oven, and serve to hungry people.

As Luisa says, the Auflauf will be a whole different kind of delicious right out of the fridge tomorrow morning. Do save a bite for that.

Apples and Honey Cake

With Rosh Hashana less than 12 hours away, it may seem a bit late to be posting a cake for the Jewish New Year. However: however. Some of us leave the cooking until the last minute, yeah? And besides: if someone had shared this cake at the same time last year, I'd have read it and realized that I focused so intently on getting that brisket just perfectly seasoned, that challah burnished and browned just so, that there was absolutely no dessert. There was a Rosh Hashana meal at my house last year when my gracious guests nibbled on leftover apples and honey after the meal was done. This year, I've got dessert covered, for you and me both.

apple honey cake 1

Apple cake is traditional on this holiday, as is honey cake. Why not combine the two? If you make this into just one cake, it is a monstrosity, a tall and majestic cake with spices that demand to be heard as well as seen (the cake is a deep, dark brown). The apples are sprinkled with sugar and spice all their own, and after a nice, long stretch in a hot oven, they soften just enough while keeping their texture.

You'll be delighted to know that you can make this cake without any special equipment. No mixer necessary; I stirred the batter with a fork. And while I made this in a bundt pan, you can make it in three loaf pans, two round pans, or one 9x13 pan. At this stage in the game, options are key.

apple honey cake 3

Ironically, this new year I'm resolving to slow down a bit. The pace around here has been frenetic, and I'd like it to stop being that way. Dear friends of ours are getting married and having babies; summer is turning to fall in the most beautiful of ways; fruit and vegetables really are at their peak right now; and I'm creeping closer to the big 3-0 every day. Last-minute desserts notwithstanding, I'm going to try and enjoy these special days as best I can. There's a lot to savor right now.

apple honey cake 4

To everyone celebrating, shana tova; to everyone else, enjoy this lovely season.

Apples and Honey CakeAdapted from Marcy Goldman's A Treasury of Jewish Holiday Baking and Laura Goodenough's Apple Coffee Cake

This cake calls for orange juice and either tea or coffee as the liquid. I really dislike the flavors of apples and oranges together; hello, it's like mixing apples and oranges. So I swapped out the OJ for cider, which really reinforced the apple flavor in this cake. For me, honey cakes require the depth and thickness of coffee, but if you'd prefer tea's flavor, feel free to substitute it.

2 apples, peeled, cored, and thinly sliced 3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour 1 tablespoon baking powder 1 teaspoon baking soda 1/2 teaspoon salt 6 teaspoons ground cinnamon, divided 1/2 teaspoon ground cloves 1/2 teaspoon ground allspice 1/4 teaspoon powdered ginger 1 cup vegetable oil 1 cup honey 1 1/2 cups plus 2 tablespoons granulated sugar 1/2 cup brown sugar 3 eggs 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 1 cup warm coffee 1/2 cup apple cider or apple juice 1/4 cup rye or whiskey (if not using, replace with equal amount coffee or cider)

In a medium bowl, mix apple slices with 2 tablespoons sugar and 2 teaspoons cinnamon. Set aside.

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Lightly grease the pan(s). For tube and angel food pans, line the bottom with lightly greased parchment paper.

In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and all the spices and the remaining 4 teaspoons cinnamon. Make a well in the center and add the oil, honey, sugars, eggs, vanilla, coffee, apple cider, and whiskey.

Using a strong wire whisk or a fork, combine the ingredients well to make a batter, making sure that no ingredients are stuck to the bottom of the bowl.

If making a bundt cake, spoon one-third of the batter into the pan. Top with a ring of half the apples (try to remove them from the liquid that will have accumulated; reserve this liquid for another use), then repeat with another third of the batter, the rest of the apples, and the final third of the batter.

If making this in loaf pans or round pans, pour one-quarter of the batter into each of the pans; divide all the apples between the two pans; and divide the remaining half of the batter between the two pans.

If making this in a 9x13 pan, pour half the batter into the pan; top with all of the apples; and pour the remaining batter on top.

In a bundt pan, the apples may float to the top. They're unlikely to stay in layers. That's ok; still better to layer them in so they're fully coated with batter.

(Phew.)

Place the cake pan(s) on baking sheets stacked together and bake until the cake springs back when you touch it gently in the center. For angel and tube cake pans, bake for 60 to 70 minutes; loaf cakes, 45 to 55 minutes. For sheet-style cakes, the baking time is 40 to 45 minutes. This is a liquidy batter and, depending on your oven, it may need extra time. Cake should spring back when gently pressed. If you're not sure, check it with a toothpick, which should come out clean.

Let the cake stand for 15 minutes before removing it from the pan. Then invert it onto a wire rack to cool completely.